for Lissy Old
In Duke Henry the Lion’s ancient church
attached to his Braunschweig castle, Lissy takes
a photo of modern sculpture, searches
for its symbolism. Rising from its base
like a slender, age-bent tree trunk, gray-brown,
I see dying Christ’s sinking legs from hours
on the cross. How body weight shoves them down,
causing lungs to collapse, losing power
to suck in air and survive. The carving’s
upper torso seems gnarled, unfinished art.
Yet I see taut, whip-lashed chest and starving
gut, sense deep inside his bruised, fading heart.
No need for face or arms to show his fate.
It’s always sinking legs that suffocate.
Roger Armbrust
June 11, 2013
